UPSIDE DOWN
by Saeshmea
Summary: Severus Snape wakes up from a two-week coma to learn that Harry Potter died in the battle. Now You-Know-Who is running the war from Hogwarts, but there isn't much hope. The professors who didn't die in the battle were made prisoners. His only chance is to find Minerva and together come up with a plan to fix things... if they can be fixed.
1. Chapter 1

**Skip this to go directly to the story.**

 **A/N:** This is going to sound weird. I began to write this story last Christmas. I wanted to try something different. When I had three full chapters written down and I knew more or less how the plot would go, I decided I would post it. Then, Alan Rickman passed away and I thought it would be very disrespectful to upload a story about Snape surviving death just a few days after he died. So, not only did I stop myself from sharing this, I didn't open the document again until today. I wanted to write something and I'm having a bit of 'writer's block' on 'My Master' so I went back to this one.

I think you might like it. It's something that has been done several times in FanFiction: an alternate Universe where Voldemort wins the battle. I wanted to give my version of this theory, my SS/MM version…

 **DISCLAIMER**

I obviously don't own anything related to the Harry Potter universe. That roll belongs to the great goddess of fantasy that is JK Rowling. I simply – and with all my modesty – use her characters and settings to exercise my own creative side and my writing in English.

 **APOLOGY**

Speaking of writing in English. I am not a native speaker, as you may have notice – and if not, you will. My English spelling, and specially my grammar, is far from perfect and sometimes is affected by my mother language – Catalan and Spanish. I know I could use a betta-reader but I choose not to, but, any corrections or improvements on my use of this beautiful language I adore are welcome, as long as they are made in a polite way.

 **NEWS FROM ME**

Not that you have to be interested, but… I'm moving to England in two months! I'm so excited! I'll be telling my story – in English, so I keep practicing – in a new blog I created called **MyLondonTale**. You can google it, follow me on Facebook, Twitter, or just go into the blog and read how Harry Potter is the reason I'm turning my life upside down. ;-)

 **Now, without further ado… ENJOY ^_^**

* * *

 **UPSIDE DOWN**

 **by Saeshmea**

 **.**

 **Chapter 1**

.

When I regain consciousness I have the feeling of having been gone for a long time, only I don't remember where or how long. Through my mind run a ramble of blurred memories I can hardly tell apart and the only thing I feel sure of is that I am not dead.

After a while of working out my memories, I am able to collect a few facts I am sure of: my name is Severus Snape; I was born in 1960; I live in Spinner's End. Suddenly, an image of my little house comes to me and with it a lot of other memories of my childhood, my family, my mother… I see a park, and red-haired girl… Lily! Hogwarts! Potter!

Completely aware of my persona now, although still not able to clear out what brought me to this state, I open my eyes and find myself lying on a bed, a stone ceiling above my head; or at least, what is left of it. The battle!

I look around only to find my sight blocked by medical curtains. I remember pain, and Voldemort's face, and Potter… I was dying, or so I thought at the moment… apparently I survived and they brought me to the hospital wing. Damn it, I let the Potter boy take my memories thinking I'd never have to see him again, that's going to be embarrassing.

Anyway, if the battle is over I need to know what happened.

I remove the sheets covering me, glad to see I'm dressed on my own clothes. Some parts of my body ache like hell and when my feet meet the cold floor I realize I have no shoes. I look for my wand, but my clothes have been cleaned, and my pockets obviously emptied… it is neither on the night table beside the bed, which can only mean Voldemort was defeated and they're afraid of letting me be armed. I can't complain, no one was aware of Dumbledore's plan, and since it worked perfectly, even those who once were my friends must see me now as a traitor and a murderer. I'm surprised I'm not handcuffed to the bed or guarded by aurors. At least they didn't let me die, but if I was dead it all would be a lot easier, being alive I will have to give a lot of explanations unless I want to spend the remaining of my futile life in Azkaban. This won't be easy.

Barefoot and limping, I knock at Madame Pomfrey's office at the entrance of the Hospital Wing, hoping she can help me get a pair of shoes and maybe tell me who is in charge now, who I should talk to explain my situation. Probably Minerva, I guess, if she survived the battle. I shake my head. The thought of Hogwarts without McGonagall bossing everyone around is devastating. It was hard enough having to see her put her head down during this past year. After what I made her suffer, I'd hate to have outlived her. Not only that, but who'd believe such a crazy story as mine other than the very right hand of Albus Dumbledore. I need her alive.

As I wait for an answer at the nurse's office door, I realize there might be none, she also could be dead, and someone else might be doing her job now, luckily, I'm wrong.

"Come in," she says, and I do, and I find her nervously looking for some potion in her cabinet, showing me her back and not caring to turn around and check who disturbed her solitude. I guess that with the Dark Lord finally gone and all the Death Eaters probably in Azkaban there's no reason to be afraid of any danger.

"Madame Pomfrey," I say, and she jumps on her tiptoes, startled and almost making a bunch of little crystal vials filled with different liquids fall onto the floor. Luckily, she's known for her excellent reflexes, and quickly takes out her wand and stops what could have been a big disaster.

"Severus," she mutters my name as she makes the vials return to their places before turning around and looking at me. Now it's my turn to be startled when I see half her face has been burned, probably a result of some spell, and not properly healed, "you shouldn't be out of bed," she points out.

"I just needed to talk to someone, I'm sure you'll all want some explanations…" I say.

"You can keep them to yourself," she replies, "but if you need someone to talk to, there's plenty of your old friends on those beds outside," she adds, and I wonder who exactly and how many, who was injured, who was killed, who is still in one piece of my old school colleagues.

"You're right, I shouldn't be bothering you," I mutter, making my way out as she keeps moving vials and pots, until she finally finds the potion she'd been looking for in the cabinet, "I'm sure you must have plenty of patients to take care of," I add, "but that could get infected," I point to her cheek, trying to be nice, since apologies have never been my thing, but she looks at me as if I'd just insulted her.

"That would actually be a treat," she replies with an ironic tone I'd never heard on her and, as she keeps the vial in her pocket, she tries to make it to the door, but I stop her.

"I need to find Minerva," I say, "or whoever is in charge."

She looks up at me, anger behind the tears blurring her eyes.

"Is that a joke?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, feeling dizzy and confused, probably because of the potions she's been giving me.

"Look, Severus," she dries her tears and stares directly into my eyes with a fierce look, "for the sake of old days, I'll say I'm glad you're on your feet, but now that the war is over, there's no more need to pretend we ever were friends."

"If I've ever pretended it was during this past year," I say, finally glad to be able to tell the truth after so long, freed from all my lies, and she frowns as she struggles against my grasp, "that's why I need to find Minerva, I must tell her it was all pretend, I was only following Dumbledore's stupid plan to gain You-Know-Who's trust so I could help the boy, and…" suddenly, her expression changes to something I can only describe as shock. With her wand still on her hand, she raises it and for a moment I think she's going to attack me, but instead she just locks the door.

"This better not be any kind of trick," she speaks in a low voice, as if afraid someone could hear us.

"It's not, I swear. I don't care if I have to go on trial and end up in Azkaban. I just want for this farce to be over, I'm tired of hiding, and lying, and pretending…" I confess, "Yes, I did kill Dumbledore, but only because he asked me to, he was cursed, he was already dying…"

"I know," she admits, "he never showed me but I noticed the symptoms. Curses act in strange ways, sucking your life slowly from the inside and giving you an agony that can last for years unless…"

"Unless you put an end to it," I finish her sentence and then continue, "The Dark Lord had asked Malfoy's boy to take care of Dumbledore, if you know what I mean; secretly, his mother came to me to make sure his son would never have to do such a thing and that I would do it myself; when I went to tell the Headmaster, he said it was all meant to be, that I would have to kill him so that I wouldn't be seen as a traitor by the Death Eaters anymore."

"You mean it was all a set-up," she says.

"Yes."

"You were on our side all along."

"Yes."

"This past year with the Carrow siblings in the school, you were only playing a part," she concludes.

"Yes."

"And now…" her voice trembles, I let go of her arm and she brings her hands to her mouth to stop a cry.

"Now the Dark Lord's defeated," I say, and she bursts into tears, and I begin to understand, "is he not?" I ask, and she shakes her head, "What do you mean, woman? What happened?"

"Potter died."

"What? NO! No! That can't be true! He had to accomplish the prophecy," I say in denial, "Dumbledore said he was meant to die, but that he would relieve and…"

"That never happened. He just died, and although we tried to put a last fight, they won the battle. Now You-Know-Who is running the war from Hogwarts, but there isn't much hope given that he already has the Ministry under his power."

"No. This can't be true," I still can't believe it.

"They outnumbered us and most of the people had lost hope. People began to disapparate away. Some of us stay just to hold them back so the students could escape through the secret passages. We were prepared to die, but they made us prisoners instead. They took us to the dungeons and tortured us for information or just fun," she stops for a moment as if the memories were haunting her, "I was lucky. They needed me to treat the injured, that's why I'm still alive," she explains, and now I understand her previous reaction, and that 'my old friends' on the hospital beds she referred to are not my fellow professors, but the Death Eaters injured during the battle.

"When was this?" I ask, "How long have I been unconscious?" I must know.

"Two weeks," she says, "when they brought your body to the Castle you were almost dead. That snake's venom had expanded through all your body, but somehow, not affected any vital organ yet so, I knew that there was a chance," she explains, "although, to be honest, I wasn't really sure you were going to make it."

"I…"

"No, Severus, don't thank me. They thought you were dead and if it had been my choice I would have let them put you in one of the piles of bodies outside the yard and you would have burned with them," she says, and somehow her tone tells me not all the bodies in those piles were really dead, which makes me see the Matron of the school with different eyes, "but Minerva's last words to us were that we had to find you, so when they brought you in…"

"Minerva's last words?" I interrupt, a pain suddenly growing inside of me when the thought of Minerva being dead comes back to my mind. I know most of my old colleagues might not have made it, but giving names and faces to all these hypothetical bodies, hurts; specially if one of them is her. Minerva was the only person in the staff that always treated me as an equal, even after Dumbledore's death, she never seemed to believe it had been me who'd done it. "Is she…?"

"I don't know," Pomfrey says, and I'm relieved, "The last time I saw her she was giving instructions to everybody to ensure the safety of the students," she explains, "then she turned to a few of us and said we had to find you, she didn't say why and we didn't ask. Honestly, I thought she wanted you curse your ass herself, but if what you just told me is true… Maybe she thought you could help."

"I don't think so…" I admit.

The last time we were together she didn't demonstrate such care towards me, on the contrary, Minerva seemed more than determined to eliminate me… although she didn't, she missed that stunner, and Minerva never misses, not unless it was in purpose. Was she maybe pretending? Could it be that she knew? No… right? I mean, this past year we've been side by side and she's never given me a single sign that she knew anything other than what I let people believe, so… I don't know. Maybe Dumbledore told her.

Anyway, if she's alive I have to find her. She's the only person I know that can help me figure out what to do.

"Do you know where she could be?" I ask.

"I don't even know if she's alive, Severus."

"Well, if she was, where would they take her? Where are all the others?"

"They took everybody to the old dungeons, but I haven't seen anyone since they brought me up here."

As I try to cope with fact that I have two blank weeks in my mind during which I was peacefully sleeping on a hospital bed while my old colleagues were being savagely tortured, I try to focus on my plan ahead. I need a wand and shoes.

"Take care of that burn," I tell Pomfrey before I leave, barefoot and wandless, and aware that I will be walking down the halls of a different Castle than the one I knew.

.

TO BE CONTINUED…


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I thought about giving this story two points of view too, but I think that it is more intriguing and interesting only from Severus POV. I'm still not sure if this will turn romantic or not... it'll depend on how Severus and Minerva evolve during the story, I guess.

*** Check my profile and follow me on twitter, facebook or my new blog: **MyLondonTale** . I'm moving to London in November and I'll be telling my story in a journal/beginners guide style. I'm planing a special Harry Potter give-away to celebrate ^_^

 **Enough publicity, ENJOY ^_^**

* * *

 **UPSIDE DOWN**

 **by Saeshmea**

 **.**

 **Chapter 2**

 **.**

As I step down the still-standing staircase, my naked feet walking over dust and blood, I can't help to be distressed by the deep silence surrounding me. At first I fail to guess what it is exactly that makes this stillness so disturbing, then I realize it's the paintings. Many of them have been torn apart and their inhabitants are either shrunk in the remaining pieces of canvas, or gone elsewhere. The ghosts that usually fly across the halls gossiping about whatever is new in the castle, also seem to have disappeared for good. Have they all abandoned my old colleagues to the mercy of their captors or has the Dark Lord banished them from the grounds?

When I reach the lowest levels of the school, I can hear sounds of life far away the deserted corridors I can see around me. Voices, cries and screams come from the old dungeons asking me to help, reminding me I can't.

I pass by the door of the potions classroom and go straight into my office and private rooms. The door is ajar so I need no password to enter. It's when I step inside and light the old half-melted candle on the cleared dusty desk that I remember this is not my office anymore; it hasn't been for the past year. When I became Headmaster I moved to Dumbledore's old rooms and most of my things are there, now. I should be able to find a pair of old shoes somewhere, though, since nobody wanted to use these rooms I kept them empty with the intention of coming back if I was still alive after the war had ended and the new Headmaster allowed it.

I touch one of the crystal vases on the shelf behind my old desk and it immediately disappears to show the door to my dorm. On the lower shelf of my closet I find a pair of winter boots I would wear to recollect ingredients form the forest. I have no socks on my drawers and neither do I have any back-up wand. Those are the things I did bring with me to the Headmaster's rooms.

Before I leave I take from my potion cabinet a few vials that might proof useful later on. I'm not sure of how well the Dark Lord will take the news of me surviving his attack, and with the castle crowded by Death Eaters, I don't think it'd be wise to walk around completely unprepared.

…

* * *

The old dungeons are at the opposite side from the Slytherin dorms. They were never remodelled to become bedrooms or classrooms, so they're still what they were meant to be centuries ago: prisons for those who need punishment.

Nobody guards the entrance, an old iron door that I'd always seen locked. Here, the voices, cries and screams are loud enough to deafen my ears. I follow them as I look into the cells one by one through the small openings on each of their doors. I see bodies lying on the cold stone floors but I can't tell if they're sleeping or dead, neither can I tell who they are but I'm sure none of them are professors. I guess not only the stuff stayed until the last moment.

"How is my technic, Professor?" I hear a voice I recognize as Goyle Sr. coming from somewhere on my left. Then he laughs and somebody groans of pain.

I rush towards them, fearing the professor he's toying with might be Minerva, fearing he might kill her, fearing any chance of fixing all this mess will be gone with her.

The door is wide opened. I stop by the frame and rest when I see it's not her but Flitwick. I immediately regret that momentarily lack of interest, though, of course I care about Filius, he was my professor when I was a student and one of my mentors when I joined the stuff, so my stomach does boil of anger when I see Goyle is making him turn around over and over while levitating on the air. By the puddle of vomit on the floor I'd say he's been torturing him for a long time, and by his face, I'd say the charms professor won't be able to endure it much longer.

I haven't been seen, yet, so I admit the thought of simply stepping away and continue my search does cross my mind, but I shake it away quickly. I could be dead, I should be dead, but I'm not… Potter is. I better give some meaning to this unpredicted chain of events by doing things right.

I clear my throat loudly to get Goyle's attention and he startles, suddenly stopping his game and turning around to find me.

"Having fun?" I ask, one hand in my pocket, ready to throw whatever potion I pick to his feet in case he tries to attack.

"Severus, I thought you were dead!" he exclaims with either excitement or mockery, whatever it is, he's not trying to kill me, "Wanna join me?"

"No. I'd rather like to know what exactly is you're doing."

"Passing the time," he says as a-matter-of-factly, "do you remember when Professor Flitwick here made us stay after class because we couldn't master the levitation spell?"

"I do, I remember he stayed with us and helped us practice more until we managed to," I reply, "Don't you think you could be doing better things with your wand than acting like a child?"

"Like what?" he asks with a chuckle.

"The Hospital Wing needs a roof, for instance," I suggest, "and half the castle is destroyed. After all, if we're going to stay in the castle we should make sure it doesn't crumble over our heads."

He doesn't say a thing. He just looks at me like a child defeated in an argument and leaves the small square room as Flitwick falls onto the ground.

When I think it's safe, I kneel beside him. He looks pale, dehydrated and week. I took from my pocket a vial of a restoring potion and give him a few drops. I can't waste it all on him.

"Severus?" he raises a hand as if trying to reach my face to check I'm not a ghost.

"How are you doing, old friend?" I ask, taking hold of his hand for a moment, trying to comfort him, even if for a moment.

"M-mi-nerva," he mutters weakly, "looking for you," he says.

"Where is she?" I ask.

"Not down here," he says, regaining strength with the potion, "the women," his breathing becomes heavier, so I give him a few more drops of the potion, "they took them upstairs."

Upstairs? I don't let myself to think why they would take only the women with them, although Flitwick could be wrong, after all, he's weak and confused.

I'd like to take him with me. Bring him to Madame Pomfrey so he has a better chance; but I can't. Before I leave him alone I have one last request.

"I need a wand," I say, in his eyes seeing a spark that tells me he's not going to die.

"In my classroom," he says, "I keep spare wands under my desk."

"Thank you," I greet and then I stand up and step outside, closing the iron door behind me.

…

* * *

Like before, I don't encounter anyone on my way up. It is hard to reach the third floor, though, since some parts of the moving stairway are destroyed or not moving anymore. When I do, though, I hear some voices and I hide, I don't know why.

When they're gone I cross the corridor and sneak into the Charm's classroom. A bright light is coming from outside. Most of the furniture has been burned or broken, luckily, a book shelf and Flitwick's desk remain intact. There is a closed drawer behind it, but it's magically locked. Fuck.

I have no wand, but I know Flitwick. He wouldn't waste any complicated trick to guard some second-hand wands. He'd use an easy password spell, something the students wouldn't guess easily but that didn't require any effort from him, something personal, something…

"Pomona," I whisper, and the drawer opens showing a collection of twenty, maybe more, old used wands.

So predictable, I think. Flitwick and Pomona married a year after I began to work at Hogwarts. They both had been married before and they both had lost their spouses at the beginning of the war. They'd found comfort in each other and they waited until it was all over to proclaim their love.

I reach into the drawer and pick a wand randomly. It fits my hand well enough. I give it a twist while pointing to one of the candles of the ceiling and it lights. It'll do.

I close the drawer again and head to the door, all of a sudden feeling something when passing by that bookshelf standing rather out of place in the middle of the room. I give it a second look and then I reach for one of the books, suddenly it giggles and I step back, holding my recently acquired wand against it.

"Reveal yourself," I say, "or I will burn you alive," I warn.

"Please, don't," a frightened voice begs as the bookshelf morphs itself into the shape of Horace Slughorn.

"How long have you been hiding here?" I ask.

"Just about four or five days," he admits, "I was an armchair in the Ravenclaw common room until they managed to go inside; then I pretended to be a statue in the fifth floor corridor but I was sure Mrs. Norris could smell me, so I became a cushion in the Divination classroom, then they brought the women up there and…"

"The women?" I stop him, "Was Minerva with them?"

"I – I – I don't know. Maybe. I ran away the moment I got a chance," he explains, "please, Severus, you always were one of my top students," he says, grabbing the fabric of my shirt as he implores, "Don't tell them I'm here. I mean no harm. I'm just trying to stay alive."

I look down at the man and feel pity for him. He's always been a coward and he's receiving his own kind of torture by living in fear all the time.

"Do whatever you want," I tell him as I get rid of his grasp, deciding he doesn't deserve any explanation on why I'm not turning him in, "but you should know you make a terrible bookshelf."

.

TO BE CONTINUED…


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Honestly, I'm sorry!

 **ENJOY ^_^**

* * *

 **UPSIDE DOWN**

 **by Saeshmea**

 **.**

 **Chapter 3**

 **.**

The Divination Classroom, at the top of the North Tower, with only one narrow corridor connecting it to the castle, is a great place to hold prisoners. In fact, Filch would sometimes explain how in the old days – older than him – they would use it for that when the dungeons got crowded. Maybe it was even him who gave Lord Voldemort the idea, the bastard would kiss the feet of whoever runs the school no matter their political views.

There's someone guarding the stairs going up the tower. I do recognize him as a Dark Lord's follower but I can't put a name on his face. I take a breath, keep a good hold on my second-hand wand in my pocket, and walk straight towards him. I am ready for whatever happens, but I don't get to see it.

"Severus!" I hear my name and I stop my race to look up the stairs. Coming down with a big smile on his face as if he was the happiest man in the Earth, there's Crabbe. Right behind him, there's also Professor Sinistra. He has her black hair trapped on his grasp and he's dragging her down the stairs with little care about her difficulties keeping balance.

"So glad to see you back from the dead," he says, as they stop in front of me and I notice Aurora's hands are tied up behind her back and her dress is barely covering her bright dark skin anymore. Because of the way Crabbe is holding her, she's forced to avoid eye contact with me, and I'm glad for it. My own experience in war and her appearance are enough to guess the kind of torments she's been put through and is about to relive. I never participated in such practices, but I did get to see the victims before and after the rapes… so easy to keep them as a distant thing when you don't even know their names; so hard to do it when you've shared three meals a day with them for seventeen years.

"Are you coming to celebrate?" he asks, and that hints me that the tower is not simply functioning as a prison, but a brothel. Now I really hope for Minerva not to be up there, even if it means she's dead.

"You better hurry," he says, accepting my silence as an answer, "Rabastan just went in and he doesn't even bother to take them to his room."

"Thank you," I mutter as a reply as he takes his way and I take mine. Before disappearing behind the spiral staircase, though, I fail by looking back – I only want to check Augusta was still walking on her feet, that she hasn't tripped or something… She hasn't, but she does look back too, probably to silently curse me for not helping, for being a traitor. Our eyes meet and I try to apologize, to explain everything I've done, to tell her I'll fix it… Of course, she doesn't understand. She's dragged away and I continue climbing up, fearing what other faces I may find.

…

* * *

I don't know what I was expecting, but when I finally get upstairs and go into the classroom I'm shocked. It's not the rearranged furniture, not the little clothes the women have on them; not even Rabastan Lastrange brutally fucking a wretched Fleur Delacour against one of the small round tables – after all I was warned. What shocks me the most is the fact there's about fifty women sitting or lying on the floor. I would have never guessed such a number.

They are either kneeling down, sitting or lying on the colourful pillows. Their wrists are tied up behind their backs and their ankles chained to the walls. Every two or three women, there's a bowl on the floor – like the ones you'd use to feed a pet – with rests of food – judging by the looks, some kind of porridge.

A couple of them are sobbing, a young girl I don't need to look at to recognize as Ms. Granger is loudly expressing her thoughts on the scene going on at the corner of the room, as if she truly believed her ranting could be of any help for Ms. Delacour. If anything, she's only making herself look suitable to be the next one, and this thought is what pushes me to have her attention – and everyone else's in the room.

"Silent, Ms. Granger!" I command, and like the good student she's always been, she complies.

As my entrance is noticed by everyone, whispers and murmurs grow louder between the women. I'm not sure this was a good idea, although at least I do get to see everyone's faces as they raise to have a look at me. Minerva's not here.

"Traitor!" I recognize Hooch's voice shouting out from a distant corner and I don't bother to find her, "Bastard!" someone else follows, and I ignore her too.

"Don't be afraid, Severus," Rabastan talks to me without stopping his task in hand, "they're better behaved when they're alone."

I obviously have no intention of fucking any of these women, for Merlin's sake, some of them are barely of age, yet. But I do need to know if Minerva was ever here, if they know where she could be.

I realize I'll have to take someone outside. I must be careful in the choosing, though; I need someone who might trust me or I can easily make to trust me. I immediately discard Hooch; she'd get the first chance she got to kill me without letting me say a word.

I would take Ms. Granger, she's always been a smart kid, she's probably been observing everything and has collected more information than anyone but, honestly, I can't stand a single minute with her. She's annoyingly stubborn, always wanting to be rightful. She reminds me of Minerva and I have enough with one of them in my head.

I scan the room looking for the right choice and then I see Sprout. Her eyes are pinned on me as if trying to read my mind. She's right next to Hooch, her clothes are unbuttoned and covered in dry mud and blood. I walk towards her and use my wand to free her ankles.

"Up," I instruct and she knits her eyebrows as if questioning my command.

"Leave her alone, you bastard!" Hooch shouts, fighting against her restrains in vain.

I say nothing, but I point my wand again towards the Herbology Professor and untie her wrists too.

"She's a married woman, you sicko," Hooch keeps yelling, "if I had a wand I would cut your balls right now."

This time I can't help myself. She's going to get in so much trouble if she keeps using her mouth like this that I have to scare her. I bend over, grab a handful of her greyish hair and pull her up so we're nose to nose.

"Insult me one more time and I'll bury my cock down your throat until you turn blue," I threaten and then let her go.

I turn towards Sprout one more time and offer my hand to help her up. She hesitates, looks at her friend, who doesn't say a word this time, and then looks at me. She grasps my arm and uses it as support to stand up.

…

* * *

When I think we're far enough from the tower, I pull her into the first classroom we find. By the light coming from the windows I can tell it's late afternoon. The adrenaline that helped me out of the hospital bed is wearing off and I'm beginning to feel my body getting weak again. I haven't eaten anything, my throat would really appreciate a glass of water and I would certainly not mind closing my eyes, going to sleep and wish it was all different when I woke up.

I look for the closest chair and sit down. I allow myself to enjoy the pleasure of relaxation for a fraction of a second and then I look at my companion. She's shaking. I can't tell if from fear or cold, but she's certainly not comfortable.

"You can relax, Professor Sprout," I say, allowing my voice to sound tired, "I'm not going to fuck you."

"I know that," she says, still keeping some distance between the two of us, probably pondering how trustable I can be, "you're looking for Minerva."

"I am," I say with confidence, understanding her quick guess as a sign of hope, "do you know where she is?" I ask and she nods.

"Minerva is dead."

Her statement comes in a cold voice. She doesn't even cry and I don't think it's because of a lack of sentiment but because there's no strength left in her body to experiment such emotion.

Her words are followed by a deep silence that seems to suck all the oxygen left in the room. That or maybe I simply lost the capacity of breathing.

"Are you… it can't…" I don't seem to remember how to fully form a sentence either. In fact, I don't think there's a single organ in my body functioning as it should at this moment. If I wasn't sitting down I think I would collapse on the floor like a puppet without strings. Everything around me becomes a blur. Am I becoming blind or am I crying? I don't know… I don't know anything… I remember one other time I felt like this. Seventeen years ago. The moment I saw Lily's lifeless body on the floor next to Harry's crib. She was the only good though in my soul and she was gone… Now Minerva is gone too.

I don't understand. Why does it hurt so much? Why is it affecting me like this? She was just another professor in the school… We were just colleagues…. Good colleagues… friends maybe… definitely nothing more than that, nothing more than good friends.

"Severus, Severus!" I hear a voice calling my name, "Severus are you alright?" it's Sprout. I open my eyes and find her right next to me, holding my wrist as if trying to find a pulse.

"Sorry," I apologize as I regain my composure.

"It's alright," she says, letting go of my hand, "I know you were very fond of each other."

"Who?" I pretend not to understand, "don't be silly. I cared very little for that stubborn woman."

"Why were you looking for her, then?"

"I thought she could help me."

"Help you what?"

"Fix everything," I say, "it wasn't supposed to go this way."

"What do you mean?"

"I never stopped being in Dumbledore's side," I confess one more time today, "I pretended to be a traitor to gain Voldemort's trust so I could protect the boy from him… I failed."

"Is that why Minerva was looking for you?" she asks, "right before the last fight, when we knew everything was lost, she said we had to find you. She didn't say why but a part of me thought maybe she knew something, maybe you could help us in some way…"

"She didn't know," I say, "not as far as I'm concerned. Dumbledore never said he'd tell her," I admit and I see some disappointment in her face, "How did she… what happened?" I need to know.

Sprout moves around the desk I'm sitting at and takes another chair to rest herself. She remains silent for a moment, her eyes pinned on the floor.

"It was my fault," she says, "it all happened so fast… I had made my Devil's Snare trap Alecto Carrow and I was watching her scream in agony when I was suddenly disarmed. Her bloody brother had heard her and had come to the rescue. He attacked me with a cruciatus and asked me to get his sister free, I refused and he kept going. I was ready to die but suddenly, he stopped. I was released from the curse and I didn't understand why, until I saw Amycus lying dead on the ground and Minerva next to him."

"She killed him," I say out loud just to believe it, "in front of his sister."

"In front of her very eyes. She became crazy, she began to scream and sob, she was so outraged that she she somehow debilitated the Devil's Snare without the need of a wand… She got herself free, grabbed her brother's wand and went after Minerva."

"She couldn't escape."

"When we were all made prisoners and taken to the dungeons she wasn't there," she explains, "I'm sorry Severus."

"She was my only hope," I admit, "I can't make everything right again on my own."

Silent embraces us again. Sprout takes my hands and looks at me.

"You're not responsible for the result of the war, Severus," she says, "this happen a certain way for a reason… Maybe there's nothing to be fixed… maybe it's time to truly give up."

I look at her and see the pain in her soul, the sadness, the exhaustion…

"Let's go," I say, standing up and walking towards the door. She follows without questioning, probably thinking we're going back to the tower now that my mission is over; but it's not there that I'm taking her.

We decent all the way down to the old dungeons and I make her stop right outside the door of Flitwick's cell. I point at her with my second hand wand and fix her clothes with a simple wave. Then I open the door and let her in.

"Filius!" she immediately runs towards her husband, who is still laying down but breathing fine. She covers him with kisses and touches every part of his body as if making sure he's all in one piece.

I take my hand to my pocket and take out what's left of the revitalizing potion I used earlier. I give it to her and she quickly pours it entirely into Flitwick's mouth.

"Thank you, Severus," she repeats several times among sobs, "thank you."

I had to let her see him, I had to let them be together like Minerva and I won't be able to be… I shake my head. What a though? Me and Minerva! I laugh inside and then look at Sprout and Flitwick again. She's helped him into a sitting position and he's certainly gaining strength quickly.

"Flitwick, is there any secret corridor they couldn't have found?" I ask.

"Sure, not even Filch knows every exit of this castle," he says.

"Good," I bend over and hand my wand to Sprout, "I'm not going to give up," I say, "I have nothing left to lose, and neither do you."

"You want us to run away?" she asks, "and leave everyone behind…"

"I want you to escape and look for help outside. They won this battle but they haven't won the war. I'm sure there's people resisting all over the Kingdom and I need you to tell them they have help inside too."

She looks at Flitwick while holding the wand I just offered her with trembling hands.

"If they found us…" she mutters.

"I rather die next to you than spend another minute in this dungeon wondering what they might be doing to you," Flitwick says while brushing some hairs away from Sprout's face. I wonder if he knows what she's been through during this past days, I wonder if he can guess by only looking at her eyes, if he can read her soul by the expression of her face and comfort her sorrow by only touching her skin…

"I don't think I'll ever be able to thank you enough, Severus," Sprout says one last time. I respond to her gratitude with a nod and then I leave them to their own fortune. I hope they don't die.

.

TO BE CONTINUED…


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Hi everyone! I just posted a new "story" in order to give away ONE TICKET for HP and THE CURSED CHILD for this weekend. I got an extra one for a friend but I've ended up travelling alone. If you're interested, check my profile!

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* * *

 **UPSIDE DOWN**

 **by Saeshmea**

 **.**

 **Chapter 4**

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* * *

A man with no plan, that's who I am now. No plan and no wand either, so I decide to take another trip to the charms classroom. Once I'm armed again I might just go back to the Hospital Wing and let Madame Pomfrey drug me to sleep. All my muscles are in pain and my head is spinning… I wish I could just wake up and realize it was all a nightmare… or simply be dead.

"Severus!" I hear Goyle calling me from the distance when I reach the second floor and I turn around to see him almost out of breath, "I've been looking for you all over the bloody Castle," he says, "the Dark Lord wants to see you."

"He does?" I ask, wondering why would Voldemort require me, his voice commanding Nagini to kill me resounds in my ears.

"I told him you were on your feet and he sent me to find you," he explains, "we don't want to make him wait."

I nod and follow his lead, ready to die if I must, ready to kill if I can.

We walk to the Headmaster's office and it doesn't surprise me that he's converted it into his headquarters.

"The boy is dead," Goyle speaks towards the gargoyle that hides the circular stairway and it immediately starts to move.

Well, at some point or another I had to face him, what better time that this present moment where I have nothing to lose or gain. Let's go get murdered again, I think before we start to climb the stairs and Goyle knocks at the door.

We hear some steps coming towards us, the door opens and Pettigrew's creepy fingers hold it as he checks who their guests are.

"It's Snape, my Lord," he says. There's no verbal reply but I guess my failed-murderer gives him some sign to let us in as he opens the door wide and gestures us to enter.

The fireplace is lid, yet the room is as cold as ice. Dumbledore's desk is gone and the Dark Lord sits on his chair as if it was the throne of a king. Behind him hang the portraits of all the men and women who have sat on that chair before him and are now dead, all of them torn apart but one: Dumbledore's. He appears to be sleeping peacefully as if nothing had changed at all.

"Come closer, Severus, the light is poor where you stand," Voldemort commands and I obey, "I'm so glad to see you survived," he says, and I'm not sure if he's serious or trying to be funny before sending another pet to my throat, "you've always been so loyal to me, even when I did what I had to do during the battle, you never tried to stop me or defend yourself," this has to be some joke, is he actually apologizing to me?, "yet I was wrong and it turned out I didn't need to kill you… it would have been a great disappointment to lose you right now, Severus," he looks at me, expecting an answer, I realize after a moment of silence, and I just don't know what I should say.

"I'm glad to be alive too, My Lord," I say, still not sure of the situation.

"I'd like to compensate you somehow," he says as he stands up from the chair and walks towards the windows, "you see, these fools around me," and he looks at Goyle behind me, "are celebrating this one victory as if we'd won the war, but all we've done so far is ensuring the prophecy doesn't become true," he looks at me again, "I know there's a resistance getting ready to attack and I'm going to need smart men like you, Severus, loyal men."

I'm feeling dizzy again. I can't believe I'm back to this, back to pretending, to sucking this monster's ass for nothing… No, I'm tired of it, I'm done with this… Minerva's gone, I already helped Sprout and Flitwick, I made a change – even if little -, I want to be free.

"My Lord, there's something about my loyalty I've always wanted to tell you…" I say with a defiant tone I'd never dared to use with him, ready to confess, ready to receive the killing curse from the Elder's wand itself.

"Traitor!" someone says, "Murderer!" I turn around not sure of what my ears are hearing, "I thought you'd be dead by now!" Dumbledore has woken up in his portrait and is yelling at me things he knows are not true… Bastard. He's stopping me from making my suicidal move… I can't believe he's actually trying to use me even from beyond death…

"He's a bit annoying, but I like having him around," Voldemort says, "what were you saying?"

"I…" I must be an idiot, "I wanted to make it clear, my Lord, that my loyalty will always be yours, no matter what," and I bow, and I feel his hand on my shoulder as he walks by. I want to throw up.

"I think this is yours, Severus," he says, and I turn towards him and see Pettigrew give him my wand, which he hands to me afterward. I have to admit, it feels good to have its handle on my grasp again. "I'd also want to offer you anything you'd like to have to reward your loyalty, Severus… maybe one of Hogwart's treasures as a trophy, or one of our prisoners as a slave…"

"I want that!" Goyle interrupts.

"Have you done anything do deserve such gratitude?" Voldemort asks him, and he doesn't speak again.

Suddenly, someone knocks at the door. Wormtail checks who it is and then lets them in.

"My Lord," Lucius Malfoy walks in, I recognize him only for his voice since he never raises his face, showing a humility I'd never seen on him, "everything is ready and Carrow is getting impatient."

"Alright, alright… Come Severus, you'll like the show too," he follows Malfoy outside, and I walk behind them with Goyle and Pettigrew. I don't know where we're going or what we're going to see, but I'm eager to meet Carrow, especially now that I have my wand back. If I can get her alone, I might have the chance to at least revenge Minerva's death.

…

We're guided to the Courtyard where everyone is gathered around the square for who-knows what. People make place for the Dark Lord to walk through the crowd and we stop under one of the central arches. From here I can finally see Alecto standing in the middle of the courtyard, sending curse after curse against some naked body curled up a few feet from her.

"Carrow!" the Dark Lord gets her attention and everybody stays quiet, "weren't you going to wait for me?"

"I was just warming up, my Lord," she says with a false apologetic tone, "giving the crowd something to enjoy in the meantime."

"Make her stand," he commands, "it's not fun if I can't see her face in agony," he adds, and Alecto quickly walks towards her victim, grabs a handful of her dark hair and raises her up like a lifeless doll.

Fuck.

Minerva.

I have no time to be shocked or to wonder how come she's not dead. She's about to be publicly executed and I must do something to stop it.

"My Lord," I say, talking as calmly as I can, "that's Minerva McGonagall."

"I know."

"She was the right hand of Dumbledore for years, member of the Order of the Phoenix," I remind him, "she's one of the most powerful witches of all time."

"I know Severus, that's why seeing her die will be so pleasurable."

"But, My Lord, wouldn't she be a great asset for us, to get information, even to negotiate with the resistance."

"I don't negotiate, Severus, and we already tried to get information from her," he explains, "it was useless."

"Well, you didn't have me. I am a master in legilimency and I've worked with her long enough to know her weak points," this time he turns slightly to look at me, he's interested.

"I don't know, Severus, Carrow has wanted this since the battle ended… if I don't let her avenge her brother's death I'll never hear the end of it."

"Before… you said I could ask for anything, my Lord," I say.

"I did."

"Could I ask for her life?" I ask, determined to either safe her life or get killed with her.

"You want to claim Minerva McGonagall as your slave?" he asks.

"I… I do, yes. That's what I want," I answer.

"Something tells me it's not only information you're looking from her…" he says, and I tense, trying to avoid thinking too loud, "working side by side with McGonagall for so long must have given you enough reasons to hate her, am I wrong?" he adds and I smile, glad that he's made his own conclusions, "she's all yours, but you'll have to deal with Carrow yourself."

"Thank you, my Lord," I bow and walk straight to the centre of the courtyard, wand in hand.

Carrow is giving Minerva a very slow death, letting her body the chance to feel every kind of pain possible, waiting to hear her cry or beg, but Minerva is too proud for that. Since I'm here I haven't heard a single sound come out from her mouth, not a single tear mix with the blood on her face… even her look is defying when she sees me walking towards them.

"That's enough," I tell Alecto grabbing her wrist when she's about to attack Minerva again.

"I'm sorry, Severus, find your own prisoner to play with, this one's mine," she says, getting rid of my grasp.

"No, she's not. The Dark Lord himself just gave her to me," I say, "and I won't hesitate to kill you if I must to get her to my rooms."

"That can't be true!" she yells outraged, "Find yourself some other bitch to fuck, Severus, this one killed my brother and I have every right to kill her!"

"I'm sorry Amycus is dead, Alecto, but everyone got someone killed during the battle and they didn't all get their chance for revenge," my words get some nods and whispers from the crowd and that only makes Carrow angrier.

"My Lord!" she cries like a spoiled child and Voldemort simply grins at her. "Of all the available cunts in this bloody Castle, why this one, Severus?!"

"I like challenges," I say with a smirk, deeply enjoying her disappointment as I walk towards Minerva.

"Aaah!" Alecto let's go a cry of desperation and then I hear her beginning to mutter some spell, I quickly turn around and disarm her. The crowd explodes in cheers and satisfied with the show – even if different from the one promised – they all begin to walk away except for Voldemort and Pettigrew, who approach us in the courtyard.

"You just made yourself a new enemy, Severus," the Dark Lord points out.

"That's fine. I'm not a man with many friends, my Lord," I reply, my eyes pinned on Minerva, who seems to be struggling to stay conscious. Voldemort seems to notice and directs his attention to her too. He takes out his wand and forced her into a kneeling position.

"Tell me, Professor, do you still believe you could duel against me?" he asks, looking at Minerva as if she was nothing but a dead animal on the ground.

"Give me a wand and I'll show you," she replies with a weak voice and only staying balanced because of the magic holding her straight. I think this is it, I just saved her from Alecto to be killed by Voldemort himself but he does nothing, he simply laughs.

"Hahaha! It would have been entertaining to tame you," he says, "I'm starting to regret giving you to Severus," he stops the spell and Minerva immediately faints from exhaustion, "have fun, Severus," and he leaves, Wormtail following him like a shadow, and I quickly bend down to check on her.

"Minerva, can you hear me?" I get no reply but she's still breathing. She's completely naked although her skin is covered in so much dirt and blood that you can barely tell. I don't feel myself strong enough right now to carry her on my arms, but I don't want to parade her around the castle using a levitation spell. I pass one arm under her shoulders and another under her knees and force my body to stand up. I hold her as close to my body as I can to cover her nudity and I start to walk away.

…

Maybe I should take her directly to the Hospital Wing, but there she would have no intimacy and would be surrounded by all the wounded Death Eaters and the ones coming and going. I decide to take her to my rooms. Halfway there I notice Minerva moving; I look down at her and see her eyes are opened.

"Welcome back," I say.

"Where are you taking us?" she asks, her voice weak but her tone harsh.

"To my rooms," I say.

"Sure, why not go directly to pay a visit to Carrow?" she replies with irony as she raises her arms to hold herself around my neck, "we should go to the Ravenclaw tower, it's the only place these morons haven't been able to get in yet."

"I'm not climbing five floors with you on my arms when we're almost here," I say, "besides, my potions are in my rooms."

"I don't need your bloody potions, Severus," she keeps arguing as if not seeing how ridiculous this is, "I need a bed and a strong guarding spell to keep that bitch away from me… any room with a simple password spell is useless right now, and the paintings that weren't ripped apart ran away leaving the rooms they guarded unprotected as well. The eagle doorknob from the Ravenclaw's tower only lets people in by solving a riddle, if I'm not going to die today I'd at least like the chance to live through the night."

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TO BE CONTINUED…


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Hi everyone! sorry for taking so long to post updates... I'm trying to find the time to sit down and write. Hopefully you'll enjoy this part ^.^

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* * *

 **UPSIDE DOWN**

 **.**

 **By Saeshmea**

 **.**

 **Chapter 5**

* * *

Going upstairs takes us a while. I can barely hold myself standing, so it's even harder to carry Minerva; but somehow, I find strength for it. When we finally reach the fifth floor, Minerva raises her hand to knock on the doorknob that guards the entrance to the Ravenclaw tower. The little eagle spreads it's wings as if it'd been having a long sleep, opens its little eyes and looks at both of us with judgement.

"Tear off one and scratch its head, what was red's now black instead," it says after a moment.

My head's spinning and all I want to do is to lay down. I'm too tired to answer riddles. Minerva lets go a sight and answers: "a matchstick," as if she'd had the answer ready all along.

The door opens and we walk in. I look around and realize I'd never been in the Ravenclaw tower before. The furniture is the same as in the Slytherin common room only decorated with blue velvet instead of green, there's bookshelves everywhere, a couple chess tables with sets ready to play, some desks to study… they look pretty much the same, but there's something different, and I don't quite get what it is.

"I'd like to go down, now, please, Severus," Minerva asks nicely.

"You should lay down," I say, "we should check your injuries and…"

"Severus, put me down right now if you appreciate having your arms attached to your shoulders."

I immediately let her down and help her stand until she grasps the nearest piece of furniture for balance and lets go of me. She begins to move from a chair to a dresser to a bookshelf, like a toddler just beginning to walk. She limps from her right foot and by the funny faces she makes, I'm sure her left leg hurts too… and she's naked.

Her nude figure, despite dirty and shadowy because of the poor light of the room, is very different from what her long robes usually show. Her waist is thin, her legs are long and her bottom… I shake my head and look away. I can't look at Minerva McGonagall naked, I can't think of Minerva McGonagall naked.

I try to distract myself with other thoughts, but I catch a glimpse of her newly discovered curves reflected on one of the big windows… She seems to be looking for something, feeling every edge of the furniture, every back of the old books, every corner of the paintings… I thought she was simply trying to proof herself to me, but now I think it's something else, and I'm proven right when she suddenly bends over a small marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw on the central shelf of a bookshelf, whispers something to it, and a secret compartment suddenly appears behind the shelf.

"Found it!" she exclaims with pride, taking out from the secret place a bottle of firewhisky and then turning around to look at me, "I could use a hand to reach the sofa," she says, and it does take me a couple seconds to realize she wants me to hold her again.

I hesitate. Now that I am fully aware of her nudity and that we're not surrounded by dozens of potential murderers, I don't really want to touch her… well, I do, but that is exactly why I don't want to… This is not right.

"Severus," she grows impatient, "a hand, please?" she insists, and I finally walk over and pretend I'm not seeing her nipples pointing at me as I help her walk.

"Did you make us come here for the secret stash?" I ask, trying to think of anything but the present moment.

"Of course not," she says, "we would have found one in every common room," she adds, "did you never sneak a bottle into the school when you were a student, Severus?" she asks when we finally reach the sofa and I help her sit down.

"I had better things to do…" I reply, forcing myself to keep my look up, although I very badly want to discover more secrets of her usually hidden body, "I'll go find yourself some clothes to wear," I say, quickly walking towards the stairs.

"I thought you wanted to examine my wounds first," she says with a chuckle, probably amused by my uneasiness.

I ignore her. I go upstairs and walk into the seventh year's girls bedroom. Surely here I'll find something to fit her. I look into a couple trunks and return downstairs with a long Ravenclaw cloak and a little box of fudge flies I found too. At least hunger won't kill us tonight either.

When I return, Minerva has already opened the bottle and is having a long sip.

"Here," I say, "this will do until we can go to your rooms," she smiles and has another sip.

"Is it so awful to see me naked?" she asks, holding on my arm to stand up as I help her put the cloak on with my wand.

"I should go get Madame Pomfrey," I point out, ignoring her comment as I help her make herself comfortable on the sofa, half sitting, half laying down, with a few pillows to accommodate her.

"Sit down, Severus," she says, and I look at her.

"You need medical attention, Minerva."

"Sit down," she insists, and I sit down. Not only because I'm exhausted to the point I don't know anymore how exactly I'm still standing up, but also because I don't want to leave her alone. I sit on an armchair right next to her and let go a long sigh.

"Want a sip?" Minerva says while handing the bottle to me. I take it without hesitation and have a long sip, enjoying the burning feeling of the beverage going down my throat. "I thought you were dead," she says.

"I was until this morning," I say, and from one of my pockets I take a little box of fudge flies already opened and offer it to Minerva.

"You should have stayed dead," she replies, taking it, and devouring the small fudge pieces as if she hadn't eaten in days.

"I couldn't have saved your life if I had," I point out, having one last sip of firewhisky before passing the bottle back to her, "you can thank me anytime you want," I add with a smirk.

"You didn't safe my life," she replies with a very calm tone, her face reflecting her pain as she stretches to grab the bottle, "you just delayed my death," she says with half a smile.

 _I'll keep Carrow away_ , I want to say, _I'll protect you with my own life_ , but I can't say that to Minerva, so I just say: "Sprout was convinced you were already dead."

"Pomona is alive?!" she turns towards me abruptly, completely ignoring her wounds, he eyes suddenly tearful. I nod, "where is she? How is she?"

"She's fine," I assure her, "she was…" I hesitate about mentioning the divination tower, I don't think it's any useful information and it will only worry her.

"I know about the divination tower, Severus," she says, "trust me, they haven't spared me of any detail about the torments they've put them through…" she forces a smile before having a long sip from the bottle.

"I found her while I was looking for you," I explain, "she told me you'd fought until the last moment and what happened with Carrow. She really thought she'd killed you."

"I need to see her," she says, struggling to move herself into a sitting position.

"That won't be possible," I say.

"You're not a doctor, Severus, if I say I'm fine," she insists, standing up quicker than I would have expected, "it's because I am. Now take me to Pomona."

"It's not that, Minerva," I say, and I stand up too because I don't think she'll be able to keep her own balance for too long, "you can't see Pomona because she's not here anymore. I gave her and Flitwick a wand and told them to run away," I explain, "hopefully, they were successful."

Minerva stumbles a little bit and I quickly hold her.

"You helped them escape," she says as if she needed to repeat it to believe it.

"I did," I answer, noticing the little colour that had been left on her face has drained, leaving her as pale as paper.

"And you were looking for me…"

"I was," I admit, and I look at her, her lips trembling as some word begins to form when suddenly, she faints.

…

Somehow, I manage to catch her before she hits the tea table between us. I lay her down on the sofa and quickly run downstairs to get Madame Pomfrey.

"I don't think you understand how this works, Severus," she says, "I'm not supposed to leave the hospital wing… if they saw me out there…"

"I found Minerva," I tell her.

"You did?" she asks incredulous, probably having thought her dead just like Sprout.

"She has several wounds and she's lost consciousness twice," I explain, "she's in the Ravenclaw common room," I add, "I can't bring her down."

Without saying a word, she takes a leather bag from the hanger behind the door and signals me to lead the way.

…

* * *

Madame Pomfrey makes no questions about how or where I found her, neither is she interested to know how I managed to bring her to the Ravenclaw tower; and I'm pleased by her silence.

As soon as we walk in, she starts examining Minerva. She vanishes the cloak I brought to cover her with a twist of her wand, cleans her body with a spell and studies her external and internal wounds with the help of a bunch of medical wand techniques.

I stand at a certain distance; but even from where I am it's easy to appreciate the several bruises and opened wounds all over Minerva's body. Some of them, the most recent and superficial, disappear immediately after Pomfrey applies some ointment on her skin; the others remain visible, some needing to be skilfully stitched by the mediwitch.

I see her pour at least three different potions into Minerva's mouth, and make sure she swallows even being unconscious; she even injects some sparkly greenish liquid on both her thighs that makes Minerva's veins shine as it runs down her legs.

"She lost some blood," Pomfrey explains as she begins to bandage her swollen ankle carefully, "I gave her a potion that will help her produce it faster," she looks at me as if checking that I'm paying attention and I nod, "in general, it looks worse than it really is," she assures, "she has a twisted ankle, her other leg has been broken for a couple days, and she has some fractures on her ribcage," she lists as if it really was nothing, "I gave her some skele-gro, she'll be sore, but she can endure it," she says, cutting the bandage with her wand and tying it up with a nice knot, "she was heavily dehydrated and the firewhiskey was no help," she says, looking at the almost empty bottle on the tea table with huge disapproval.

"It was her who found it," I reply, feeling like a child being scolded.

"I'm sure of that," she says, "but since your head was clearer, you could have brought her to me before having your little party."

"When is she going to wake up?" I ask, thinking there's no point in continuing this argument.

"In a minute. I kept her asleep so I could work quietly," she takes a little vial from her bag, it contains a foamy white liquid that lets go a strong smell when Pomfrey opens it. She places it right under Minerva's nose, waits a couple seconds and then puts the vial bag into her bag.

Minerva begins to move under the cloak covering her body like a blanket. She stretches her muscles and a funny face appears on her face, probably when she becomes aware of her own pain again. She turns her head slightly, opens her eyes and looks at her friend.

"What the hell happened to your face!" she cries completely tactless.

"Well, I can see you're fine, so I better go now," Pomfrey answers as she puts everything back into her bag and Minerva suddenly raises her hand and grasps her wrists. The nurse then takes Minerva's hand and they both stare at each other in silent for what feels like a long time, "me too," Pomfrey says.

"I'll walk you downstairs," I say.

"You need to rest too, Severus," Pomfrey says.

"From what I hear he's been resting for two long weeks," Minerva snaps again, this time finishing her sentence with a groan when she tries to sit up.

"I'm sure your witty mouth is the reason for half your injuries," the mediwitch tells her as she approaches me, "don't move until the skele-gro has done its job or I'll give permission to Severus to magically bond you to the sofa," she warns.

"As if he would there," Minerva mocks with a giggle and Pomfrey looks at me.

"I'll tie her up if necessary," I assure her as we walk together to the door.

"Could you at least hand me the firewhisky?" Minerva asks, "I can't reach it and I don't feel strong enough to levitate it to me."

"Absolutely not!" Pomfrey scolds her, "you definetly had enough for today!" and she takes her wand out one more time and makes the bottle fly to the fireplace, where it slams into pieces, the remaining poison catching fire immediately.

"Well, then, just give me something for the bloody pain. If I can't drink myself to sleep I want proper drugs!" Minerva complaints like a child.

"You had enough potions for the day," the mediwitch says, "good night Minerva," and we both leave.

…

* * *

While we walk downstairs, Pomfrey tells me that there are no elves left around the castle, that those who didn't die in the battle ran away afraid of their luck if they stayed. So there were no meals served anymore, other than the porridge given to the prisoners.

"I'm given a portion a day every morning," she tells me, "I don't know who makes it or how, but it tastes like hell."

When I'm back to the Ravenclaw tower, it takes me a while to solve the bloody riddle on my own – before it was Pomfrey who gave the answer to the eagle -. When I finally walk inside Minerva is already sleep.

I wonder if I should stay or go upstairs into one of the student's bedrooms, I finally decide to make myself comfortable on the other sofa. As I wait for tiredness and exhaustion to make me fall asleep, I watch Minerva rest under the cloak, remembering every inch of her body that I got to see today… I smile.

…

TO BE CONTINUED…


	6. Chapter 6

**UPSIDE DOWN**

 **.**

 **By Saeshmea**

 **.**

 **Chapter 6**

…

I don't remember dreaming at all during the time I was in the Hospital Wing but tonight I do. I dream of Potter, I see his body lying on the ground, dead, and I see Dumbledore standing by his side, he looks at me and says: 'you were meant to protect him'; then he falls silent and from a cloud of smoke Lilly appears. She looks down at Harry and then at me 'this is your fault', she says. A dark figure suddenly shadows them: Voldemort. "Thank you, Severus," he mutters with a smile, "here's your reward," he opens his arms and an intense white light comes out from his chest making the entire scene disappear and be replaced by the silhouette of a naked woman. She is too far and the light too strong for me to recognize her, but I can hear her voice...

"Severus," she calls me, "Severus," she says again, "Severus," and the third time I wake up.

I open my eyes slowly and find myself about to fall from the sofa I felt asleep on, Minerva's face only a few inches from me.

"Bad dream?" she asks and I choose not to answer.

"You shouldn't be up," I tell her as I sit up.

"I'm starving," she complaints, slowly walking back to the sofa opposite to mine and carefully sitting down.

"Me too," I say.

"Good. Could you please go get us something to eat, then?"

"I thought you were meant to be my slave, here, not the other way around," I mutter as I put my boots on, slowly getting used to the amount of light coming from the large windows on every bloody corner of the room.

"I would go downstairs myself," she says, "if it wasn't for the crazy bitch fixated with having me killed."

"I was joking, Minerva," I say, standing up and walking towards her. I take my wand out and point it to the empty glass on the tea table. I feel it with water and hand it to her, "don't get up again," I tell her before heading to the door, "or I'll tie you down like Pomfrey suggested."

"Try," she threatens and I turn around to check she's still laying down. I can only see the back of the sofa and a few locks of her dishevelled hair falling from one side. I smile and leave.

…

* * *

The castle is silent. It's strange to walk down the halls at first time in the morning without encountering any ghost or being engaged into a conversation by a nosey portrait; it's also nice, I must admit.

I can hear voices coming from the kitchen and when I reach the doors, they're suddenly opened and Goyle storms out, zipping his trousers up, a trail of blood following him. I want to ask but he doesn't even look at me as he passes by in a rush.

I hesitate about going in now. I'm hungry, but I'm not sure I can deal with whatever I'll find at the other side of the doors with an empty stomach – neither with a full one. I wait for a few seconds holding the door handle on my hand as I try to hear something but all I can listen to is the cracking sound of a lit fire. I go in.

I prepare myself to find one of my fellow professors tied up to some bench, half naked, wounded and morally destroyed. Instead of that I find a red-haired woman calmly stirring whatever it is – obviously, the porridge – inside a big stockpot.

"Mrs. Weasley?" I ask, and she turns around branding a kitchen knife on her hand. Instinctively, I step backwards.

"Professor Snape," she looks shocked to see me, "I wasn't expecting a visit from you," she says keeping a strong grip on the knife as I notice a nasty bruise on her neck running down under her jumper, and another on her thigh hidden under what's left of her skirt.

"I'm not here to hurt you, Mrs. Weasley," I assure her, but she obviously doesn't trust me, "what happened to Mr. Goyle?" I ask as I slowly reach for my wand in my pocket.

"He came too close," she says calmly and I want to know more, but it doesn't seem wise to ask about it right now. I finally take out my wand, and Mrs. Weasley makes a big effort to stay put in her position. I leave it on the table and make it slide through the long wooden surface towards her.

"Will you put the knife down now?" I ask.

She looks at my wand, looks at the knife, at me, at the door, and back at me. Without saying a single word, she puts the knife down.

"Give me a reason not to kill you right now and run away."

"I can't," I admit, "but if you haven't done it yet it must be because you already have one."

"I don't know where they are," she says, her eyes becoming tearful, her hands shaking, "my family. I couldn't leave without knowing for sure they hadn't been made prisoners."

"With the other women, I only saw Delacour," I say, remembering she'd gotten married to one of the Weasley boys, "your daughter wasn't there," I admit, "but she could have been taken somewhere else," my voice dies by the end of the sentence, not sure if what I'm telling her is a relief or not.

"What about my boys? Arthur?" she asks, and I shake my head, "I've already lost Fred, I couldn't…" her voice breaks as she forces herself not to cry.

"I haven't seen any of them so far," I say, trying to remembering the men I saw in the dungeons when I went down looking for Minerva, but I can't recall any red-haired, "I'm sorry about Fred," I say, not able to recall a single memory of the Weasley twins in my mind when they weren't side by side.

"What did you need?" she asks, suddenly back to her cold tone of voice from before.

"Food," I say plainly, "Minerva's…"

"McGonagall's alive?" she sounds very surprised.

"She's upstairs, healing from some bad wounds," I explain.

"That bitch brought her here yesterday, said they were going to execute her in a few hours. She was in very bad shape. Carrow asked her what she'd like her last meal to be, made me cook it in front of them, and then she forced her to watch while she ate it. McGonagall didn't even flinch, and she did look like if she hadn't eaten anything in days."

Starving. Minerva did use the word starving, not hungry, I remember – I just didn't though she could mean it literally. Had they fed her at all these last few days? I have a deep breath and prevent myself from storming out and go looking for Carrow right now.

"What did she ask for?" I ask.

"Meat pie," she says, and before I even ask she adds, "there's still some left," sort of a smile draws in her face, as if learning Minerva didn't actually die yesterday had given her hope. She gets it ready for me, together with the porridge she's apparently been instructed to make for the prisoners and some tea.

"Be careful with that knife," I tell her before I leave.

…

* * *

…

When I'm back, the bloody eagle is determined not to let me in.

"What belongs to you but others use it more than you do?" it asks.

The answer must be easy, I think, but my mind can't concentrate on it. Holding the tray of food on my hands as I stand in front of the door my thoughts go to Minerva. Watching Carrow eat in front of her while starving had to be the least of the humiliations they put her through, yet it enrages me that they would rejoice in her torment to such a low point. I can't take it out of my mind.

"Is the professor going to give any answer?" the knocker suddenly asks, taking me back to the present moment.

"What was the question?" I ask, having honestly forgotten.

"I'm afraid you don't belong into this House," it says.

"Of course, I don't. I'm a Slytherin," I reply, conscious that I am arguing with a piece of bronze, "but you saw me coming in yesterday with McGonagall and with Pomfrey, you saw me coming out earlier and I spent the fucking night inside! Now, let me in unless you want me to melt you into cutlery!"

"Severus Snape!" Minerva shouts when the door suddenly opens, showing her standing right behind, "as Headmaster of this school you should make a bigger effort to hide your frustration and treat every being under its roof equally," she scolds me like a student as I walk in.

"That's no _being_ ," I say, not ignoring the fact she has referred to me as headmaster, "what are you doing up?"

"Preventing you from destroying Hogwarts property, apparently," she replies with a smirk, then she adds, "I noticed you were taking long and thought you might be having troubles answering the riddle."

"I wasn't having troubles, I was just distracted."

"What belongs to you but others use it more than you do? That's what it said," she says as she takes the tray off my hands with wandless magic.

"Patience," I answer as I let go a sigh of desperation while she makes the tray fly onto one of the tables.

"Good try, but no," she answers, "it's your name," she starts taking bowls and plates out of the tray, thoroughly setting up the table, "everybody uses it to talk to or about you, but you wouldn't refer to yourself as Severus, would you?" she looks at me as she puts the tray away, the Ravenclaw cloak wrapped around her body tightly.

"Nobody calls me Severus," I say, "only you," and I can see her lips about to reply, to probably say she was just exemplifying, and that the same would go for my surname, but she doesn't, she looks away for a second and then back at me.

"Dumbledore used to call you by your name sometimes too," she points out, his name apparently hard to pronounce out loud for her. "Let's sit down and eat," she suggests, and I sit down opposite to her, in front of me, a cup of tea, a bowl of porridge and a plate with half her portion of meat pie.

"It was all for you," I say, and she just produces a smile as she chews, her mouth completely full and her plate, somehow, almost empty.

"How was Molly?" she asks.

"Happy to know you weren't dead," I answer, "and apparently taking pretty good care of her own self." Again, she answers with a silence as she swallows the unproportionate amount of porridge she's just put in her mouth. "How long has it been since they gave you something to eat?"

"I'm not sure," she admits, "you could tell me it's been weeks and I'd believe you."

"You should have told me yesterday, I would have looked for something better than fudge flies."

"Yesterday I was more focused on staying alive and stopping the pain," she says.

I look at her, admiring her Gryffindor-like courage, feeling sorry she's had to endure this, feeling angry at those who hurt her but specially feeling guilty for not having prevented it.

"Why were you looking for me?" I ask, the question suddenly popping into my head.

"Pardon?"

"The night of the battle, Pomfrey and Sprout told me you wanted to find me. Why?"

"I thought you'd tell me what to do next," she answers, "I thought Potter's death was one more of the many things Dumbledore had kept secret about his all so-well-tight plan," she explains, "but when I learned you'd been killed I understood it wasn't. That it all had simply gone very wrong."

"So you knew," I mutter, still surprise to find out, "you knew that I was just playing the part Dumbledore told me to."

"I did."

"How?" I ask.

"Dumbledore told me. He didn't want you ending up in Azkaban after everything you'd done for the Order. He thought my word – and my memory of the conversation – would be enough to convince any jury."

"Why did you never say a thing?" I ask, thinking of all the accusatory looks I received from her during the past year, all the silences.

"Because despite knowing what Albus had asked of you, I always thought you wouldn't do it; so, after Potter recalled the events on the clock tower I felt disappointed on you, on the faith I had on you."

"I had no other choice."

"I know."

"He shouldn't have told you. He endangered you," I say.

"He protected you."

"No. They could have -," but I stop myself, because they have actually tortured her, and as far as I know, she hasn't said a thing, "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry. They never asked about you, you played your part very well."

"So did you," I say, "you almost killed me right before the battle."

"Well, I was genuinely angry at you then. Potter was there, there was no reason to keep pretending, it was very cowardly of you not to talk to him at that moment!"

"I know. I realized how unfair I'd been towards him when I saw him before closing my eyes."

"Did you actually see him?"

"I was dying. I gave him my last memories and told him he had his mother's eyes."

"Oh, Severus," suddenly she brings her hand closer and rests it on mine, "that boy would have loved to know how much you appreciated his mother. All the things you could have told him about and you never did…"

"I can't believe he died. Dumbledore…" and I suddenly realize.

"What is it?"

"Dumbledore's portrait," I say, "it's still in his office."

"Are you sure?"

"It's the only one they haven't torn apart. I saw it when I went to speak to Voldemort, he stopped me right before I confessed I was a traitor. If we could talk to him, he might help us figure out what to do."

"Why were you going to do that?" she asks, and I can't tell her it was because I'd just learned she was dead and had no more reasons to stay alive so I avoid the question.

"We must find a way to go into that office alone.

.

TO BE CONTINUED…


	7. Chapter 7

**UPSIDE DOWN**

 **.**

 **By Saeshmea**

 **.**

 **Chapter 7**

* * *

As we finish eating I notice Minerva's staring at me and I wonder what thoughts might be passing through her mind.

"I need to go to my rooms," she says.

"No," I reply.

"I wasn't asking for your permission, Severus," she points out.

"It's still no," I insist, "Madame Pomfrey says you need rest," I remind her, although in my mind that's not the reason of my negative, but the thought of seeing her dead at the hands of Carrow. As long as she's in here, she's safe and, if she's safe, everything is fine.

"I need a wand," she says, her voice louder and irritated, "I have a spare one hidden under a few spells that I'm sure they haven't been able to find and, not that the pyjama party hasn't been fun, but I also need clothes."

"I'll get all that for you."

"There's something else," she says with determination, "I also want to go to the Divination tower."

"What?" I raise my voice.

"I need to see them, Severus, I need to know they're all right and let them know I'm fine."

"No. You can't do that," I hate to oppose to her so strictly but to imagine her stepping into that room where every woman is at the mercy of whoever wanders in… no.

"Well, you can't stop me," she says, and like a spoiled teenager, she stands from the table and steps away. I take out my wand, point it towards her and pull her back onto the chair, magically bonding her wrists and ankles so she can barely move.

"This is not funny, Severus!" she yells. With the struggle, her robe has opened slightly and her breasts are now completely exposed to me, "let me go!"

"Only after you admit you're talking nonsense," I say, and she looks at me with fury in her eyes right before disappearing all of a sudden. A second after she reappears a couple steps from the chair, curled up on the floor and flinching with pain.

I stop myself from immediately going to help her.

"You shouldn't transfigure yourself while your bones are still healing, Minerva," I tell her.

"Go to hell," she bursts and she makes a failed attempt to stand up that only gives her more pain.

This time I walk towards her and offer her a hand. I hate to see her so fragile. She takes it with some hesitance and, with my other hand under her shoulder, I help her up.

"I need them to know I'm sorry, Severus," she mutters.

"It's not your fault, Minerva."

"It is!" she says, and tries to get free from my touch, but she can't keep herself balanced, so she grasps on the fabric of my clothes, "They said they'd stop the rappings if I gave them a list of the Order members, but I knew they wouldn't, so I never said a word. They would bring them one by one to the room next to where I was and they would make them scream loud enough for me to hear. They never let me saw them because they liked the idea of them thinking I was dead…" at this point her voice cracks because of her effort not to cry, "I have to see them, Severus, I do."

"I still don't think it's wise for you to go there, especially when you can't transfigure yourself," I say, "but I can," I add, "say one name, and I'll bring her here so you can talk. She can then tell the others."

She raises her tearful eyes and looks at me, all the rage and anger gone, and all of a sudden she loses her balance and falls to my arms – or that's what I think at first, then I realize she's actually hugging me.

I surround her arms with mine and enjoy the warmth and familiarity of our embrace – despite it being the very first time we share such physical contact. Then she moves apart and, as if she'd suddenly realized, covers herself back with the opened robe.

…

* * *

…

When I step into Minerva's office I'm glad that I could convince her not to come. All the bookshelves are on the ground, books torn up, her desk upside down, all the drawers emptied… and the secret passage taking to her private rooms behind the large fire has been left opened.

"Hello, Severus," says a familiar voice as I go in. Sitting at the edge of the single bed there's Alecto, with her legs crossed and a big smile. At her feet lays a pile of clothes, parchments, and books.

"What are you doing here?"

"I guessed that at some point you'd need clothes for your new toy," she says, producing from behind her a pair of black laced knickers and holding them with one finger, "where is she?"

"Recovering from your brutal torture," I answer, Minerva's last confession resounding on my head as I try to find reasons not to kill her right now, "what do you want?" I ask.

"To negotiate," she says, and she stands up and walks towards me, "I want your bitch and I'm willing to pay any price for her."

"You can keep your money, Alecto," I answer looking at her straight in the eyes, "she's mine and she's not for sale."

She looks back at me with a killing wish and all of a sudden, a fire starts in the room.

"Bitches don't wear clothes," she says as she walks away, and I turn towards her and send a stunner in her direction that misses her only for a few inches. I can't kill her yet because I can't risk it to be discovered as a traitor, I would leave Minerva and the rest of the prisoners without any hope of freedom.

I put the fire down but there's nothing that can be safe. On the bed I find the black laced knickers and without giving it much thought I keep them in my pocket. Then I walk to the closet, which has been completely emptied, and knock on the back wall three times, then I cast the unlocking spell Minerva told me and whisper the word 'thistle'. Suddenly, from somewhere, a wand falls on my hand.

I keep it in my pocket together with the knickers and leave the rooms.

…

* * *

…

Crabbe is guarding the Divination tower staircase today. He warns me that both Rabastan and Rodolphus are upstairs today. I thank him and make my way up.

As I try to ignore the activities of the Lestrange brothers, my eyes go straight to Professor Sinistra, curled up in a corner, looking at the distance… next to her there's Hooch.

Of all the women in this room, of all the names she could have said, Minerva had to say hers.

"Bastard!" she yells, "where's Pomona? What did you do to her?!"

This won't be easy.

"Shut up!" I say, walking straight to her, passing between the other rows of fellow teachers and old students. I want to be out of here as soon as I can.

"Where is she, Severus? What did you do?!" she keeps going.

"That's right, Severus, you never brought that chubby bitch back," Rabastan points out from behind me, and I don't turn around, "what did you do with her?"

"She was too weak," I say, and I hear them laughing.

"No! Bastard!" Hooch screams, and I have to silence her with a spell. I must say it's quite pleasant to see her lips moving and no single sound coming out of her.

"You're coming with me," I tell her, letting her free from the chains that attach her to the others, but keeping her wrists bounded behind her back. Knowing that dragging her to the Ravenclaw tower is going to be impossible, I opt for using magical leash to make her follow me with little struggle. Once the spell is done we head to the door and I have an accidental glimpse of some red hair between Rodolphus and Rabastan. Fuck.

"I think I saw your wife on my way here, Rod," I say, and he immediately moves away from the youngest Weasley.

"Shit, Rabastan, you said she'd be out all day!" he yells, pulling his brother away too.

"Hey! I'm not the one who's married!"

"Well, if I can't enjoy myself neither can you," and like this they're off, arguing on their way down like two young boys.

I start to follow them, but then I stop. I tie Hooch's magical leash to one of the table legs and approach the girl. She's in shock.

"Come on," I grab her under the shoulder, help her up and drag her with me.

…

* * *

…

"Feed me and I live. Give me water and I die," says the eagle doorknob of the Ravenclaw common room. The way here has been slow between Hooch fighting my spell and Weasley being so weak. I'm too tired to think.

"A plant?" I say the first thing that comes to me, and I can see Hooch silently laughing behind me.

"Fire," answers the girl, and the door opens as I look at the eagle from the corner of my eyes, almost sure that the riddle is no coincidence today.

I left Minerva lying down on the central sofa but she's not there now, probably having heard us, she suddenly appears from the staircase, her hair wet and on a long plat going down her shoulder.

She was about to say something but changes her mind when she sees the girl.

"Oh, Ginny, my dear girl," she rushes to us, limping a bit, probably in pain because she's not been having proper rest. She takes the girl into a warm hug and I remember our earlier embrace, "your mother will be so happy to know you're fine."

"Minerva," I mutter, thinking how can she be fine after what she's been through just a few minutes ago, but she stops me with a look.

"She's fine," she declares as if saying it aloud would make it more true, "do you have my wand?" she asks, and I handle it to her.

She gently brushes the girl's hair behind her ears and then fixes her torn up clothes with a twist of her wand. She helps her sit down and turns towards Hooch, who has stopped struggling against my spell and started crying.

"For Merlin's sake, Severus, did you have to drag her here like this?" she scolds me as she undoes my spells and a loud sobbing sound comes out of Hooch suddenly.

"Minerva, you're alive!" she cries, running towards her friend, and giving her a tight hug.

"Pull yourself together, Rolanda, you're a grown-up woman," she tells Hooch, but she returns the embrace and her eyes become tearful as well.

"We thought you were dead," she sobs, "Pomona…" and she suddenly breaks apart from Minerva and turns towards me with anger.

"Sprout is fine," I assure her, "I apologize for letting you believe otherwise."

Confused, she looks back at Minerva for an explanation.

"Severus helped Pomona and Filius escape."

"That's what he's telling you," she says.

"It's true," the Weasley girl suddenly speaks, "I saw them going into the Forbidden Forest from the Gryffindor tower window while…" she stops, relieving that moment in her mind, I'm sure, "I recognized them immediately."

"Were they seen?" I ask.

"Not that I know of," she answers avoiding my eyes.

"Even so, this doesn't…" Hooch begins to complain, but Minerva interrupts her.

"Do have a seat, Rolanda, dear," she says, "you'll feel less confused after we talk," then she turns to me, "Severus," and holding my arm, she makes her follow her further enough her next words can't be heard, "I'm going to need something else from you."

"Anything," I say, thinking that there can't be any worse request than dragging Hooch here.

"I need you to either find or brew a potion," she says, her voice becoming almost a whisper by the end of the sentence, "a miscarrying potion," she adds.

"Minerva…" I want to argue with her that not only are these sorts of potions regulated by the Ministry - and therefore illegal to brew at home – but, they're very dangerous.

"I know," she says, and as if she had the ability to read my mind, she adds: "but we're not going to make things worse by having anyone get pregnant, Severus. I'm asking as a friend," and she stares at me and the thought that this petition might be a personal one crosses my mind.

"If I have all the ingredients, it'll take me a couple hours," I say.

"That's no trouble," she answers, "we'll be having tea," and she walks towards the table, where the dirty plates of our meal have stayed untouched. She takes out her wand and makes a quill and a parchment fly from one of the desks, scribbles a quick note and rests it on the tray together with a few long red hairs that I realize she picked up while brushing the girl's hair.

 _Dear Molly,_

 _The tray will be transported back in 15 minutes. Would you be so kind as to send tea for four people, please?_

 _Hope you're well,_

 _MM_

I read, upside down. She puts the plates and bowls on top, casts a port-key spell on the tray and magically vanishes it away.

"Severus," she grabs my attention when she's done, "I thought you'd be gone already," she points out, and I don't say I was simply admiring her so clever way to let Mrs. Weasley know her daughter was fine without leaving any clues in case anyone was to find the note.

"Sorry," I apologize, not sure why, and immediately make my way out of the tower.

.

TO BE CONTINUED…


End file.
